


things i remember

by radiogirl



Series: things i remember [1]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Dream Smp, Sleepy Boys, Sleepy Boys Inc - Freeform, family dynamic stuff, idk how ao3 works im sorry, idk little fluffy thing i wrote, mcyt - Freeform, my mom told me to post this somewhere so here, sleepy bois inc - Freeform, things i remember
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-22
Updated: 2020-12-08
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:00:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27673694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/radiogirl/pseuds/radiogirl
Summary: Things I remember by Wilbur Soot except I write about each of them.Probably just a oneshot for now but I'm saying it's a series so that I can add on later if I want
Series: things i remember [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2023589
Comments: 11
Kudos: 81





	1. sparring with techno as a child

“ _ Things I remember: _

_ Sparring with Techno as a child _ .”

-from  _ Things I Remember _ by Wilbur Soot (post-death)

It was an interesting thing to remember, Techno thought. Wilbur  _ never  _ sparred with him.

As much as the boys loved Phil, he tended to spend his time far from their home, building underwater cities and complex contraptions in distant lands. Techno and Wilbur, both teens, were left to take care of their baby brother, Tommy. 

The autumn days were slow and empty. Sun rising. Feed the baby. Tend to the wheat. 

Techno was eleven when he started training.

At first, he convinced Wilbur to join him. They slashed sticks at each other while leaping and running about the field. 

Soon, sticks turned to swords and playing turned to learning. Always learning. Short, quick jabs became charged hits, and Wilbur could no longer keep up with his brother.

Techno kept learning. How to hold the sword correctly. Movement. Dodging. Bows and arrows and crossbows.

Wilbur was learning, too, though his learning was tucked inside the house with a book on his lap and a fire crackling behind him. Economics. Politics. How to give a speech. How to lead an army. Stories of Greek heroes and military generals that he repeated to Techno that night at dinner.

For a few years, that was what Techno remembered. Sparring alone. His brother disinterested and his father no match for him. 

Oh, how badly he wanted to tell them that he didn’t care how good they were. He didn’t need a fair fight. He just wanted to show someone his new move or teach someone how to get the lower ground. He pleaded Wilbur to come fight with him. But Wilbur had no care for Techno’s childish play, so Techno played alone, fighting the shadows of trees and the oncoming wind.

Wilbur _ never  _ wanted to fight.

Tommy, though...

Tommy grew up in his bedroom, with his north-facing windows and empty bookshelf, small hands pressed against the glass as he watched his older brother slash through the air.

“ _ Now fake left, _ ” Tommy would think, before he even knew the words “fake” or “left”. “ _ Now block _ .”

He would fall asleep to Wilbur’s stories of heroes long gone and picturing himself rushing into enemy territory to slay the minotaur and save his people.

So when Tommy got old enough to walk, Tommy got old enough to fight. 

Maybe Techno should’ve been easy with the kid, but in Techno’s mind, he  _ was _ being easy. Techno made sure Tommy held his sword right, then knocked him flat on his back.

Over and over again. Sunrise to sunset.

But Tommy was still a kid, so Techno made it a game for him. Techno would play the evil monster and Tommy would play the hero, coming to end his reign of terror.

Techno still always won.

Eventually, the fire began to crackle down and the house became too cold for Wilbur. He found himself, once again, in the field with Techno, this time outmatched by both of his brothers.

Techno would play the evil monster and Tommy would play the hero, as long as Wilbur was a hero with him.

And as his hair got a little longer and his voice got a little deeper, Tommy’s fighting got a little better. 

He could navigate terrain well. Techno would admit that. The kid- the teenager- wasn’t useless. A few times, Techno almost thought he might lose.

Maybe that was the day Wilbur remembered. The day Techno almost lost.

Thirteen years old, they were still playing the same game, except Tommy was quicker to the draw and nastier with his cuts. Wilbur was almost useless on Tommy’s side- calling out strategies that Tommy didn’t even listen to.

And as Wilbur watched Techno stumble backwards, Wilbur switched sides.

Wilbur and Techno once again together, fighting their overconfident baby brother.

Not that they needed to fight. Wilbur watched Tommy’s face open in surprise. Wilbur’s betrayal alone was enough to shatter the younger boy’s confidence.

For the first time, Wilbur knocked Tommy flat on his back, wooden sword inches from his face.

“Wilbur!” Tommy groaned.

Wilbur laughed lightheartedly. “What can I say? It was never meant to be.”


	2. The Smell Of Bread

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Things I remember:  
> The smell of bread.”  
> -from Things I Remember by Wilbur Soot (post-death)

“ _ Things I remember: _

_ The smell of bread. _ ”

-from  _ Things I Remember _ by Wilbur Soot (post-death)

At first, Niki didn’t open the book. It was too much for her, all at once: the destruction of her home, Phil finally coming back, Wilbur’s death...

Eventually, room lit by soft torch light, she cracked open the spine of the hand-written notebook, tracing her fingers over the title. 

“Things I remember,” she whispered, as if Will was still there, and she was reading his work back to him. 

Reading, “Niki,” in Wilbur’s book made Niki smile.

Reading, “The smell of bread,” made her cry.

She wondered if he remembered it the same way she did. The country, young and strong, kept together with homey walls and promises of the future. 

Niki was happy. Niki was happy. Niki sat in her bakery, the soft notes of Blocks drifting through the open window. She had already made two cakes that day, both warm and glazed in sugary frosting. But Wilbur had never been a fan of sweet things, so she was making bread.

Fundy had stopped by earlier in the day, still smelling of blood and carrying a bucket of milk for the cakes. The world had come to a happy ending the night before, with L’manberg finally declaring independence. 

So Niki baked bread. 

“Fireworks!” Tommy yelled.

Niki smiled. Today was a day for celebration. 

Glancing back at her rising bread, she carried the cakes out to the Hto Dog Van, where the rest of the L’manbergians had already gathered.

The night was warm and happy. Tommy and Tubbo ran through the fields. Fundy complemented the cake. They laughed and ate and almost fell asleep with their backs against the sunset.

Tired, Niki returned to her home, where her bread was finally finished baking.

“Niki.”

She spun around. Wilbur was standing there, at the door.

Niki smiled. “Will.”

“It smells like bread,” Wilbur commented.

“I made bread.”

Easy and simple and sweet.

Wilbur sat at the edge of the counter. “I- I’m-”

“You did it, Will,” Niki whispered. “You did it.”

“I don’t know what I would’ve done. If I couldn’t have this-”

“It doesn’t matter,” Niki hushed. “We have L’manberg now, and we’ll have L’manberg forever. This is our home.”

Wilbur broke off a piece of the golden bread, watching steam emit from the soft inside. “I suppose so. L’manberg, my symphony.”

“Your  _ unfinished _ symphony,” Niki corrected.

“I guess there is still a lot to rebuild...”

He broke off another piece of bread, raising into the air as a toast. “So here’s to L’manberg, my unfinished symphony.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yuhhh  
> def not as good as the last one  
> still wanna post tho  
> tell me ur thoughts  
> btw i read all ur commments last time and cried :,) so ily

**Author's Note:**

> yuh  
> sorry i write in one-sentence paragraphs im just a different breed


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